Smith and Johnson
by Uncle Steve
Summary: The adventures of a Defector. And a Vampire, and a Ninja and quite a few others. First chapter's shaky, but it gets better! R&R, please!
1. Don't try Suicide, you're just gonna hat...

Mr. Johnson was first introduced in the "Light in the Darkness" chapter, "Friends like these". 

-- 

The clouds of steam from the hot water made the bathroom look hazy, and misted the mirrors. Good. She lay back and carefully shaved her legs. Might as well look good for the coroner... The water was tingling-hot, and she was sleepy just lying back in it. Breathing the wet air for the last time, she reached over for the straight razor and set it against her wrist. The bathroom door opened with a click (which was odd, because she'd locked it). A man walked into the small room and took a few seconds to look around. He was tall, and wore jeans and a thick shirt. He also wore sunglasses, which was downright strange at 9pm. The very large gun didn't help to reassure her about the stranger who'd just broken into her house. "Jennifer Smith?" His voice was controlled, and deep. 

"Yeah. Who the hell are you?" 

"I'm Johnson." He seemed to think that answered it sufficiently. 

"You want to tell me why you came through two locked doors, other than to see me naked?" 

The man didn't act as though he'd noticed that detail. "I'm glad I'm in time. You were about to cut yourself, yes?" 

Jennifer was taken aback for a minute. She had been about to commit suicide, yes. She'd planned it quite thoroughly. How come she suddenly felt ashamed of it, as though she'd been caught doing something private? "How did you know that?" 

"That's not important." He sat on the edge of the bath, keeping her gaze despite the sunglasses. "I want you to tell me why you don't want to live anymore." 

"Well now. There's a cheery topic I really want to investigate in detail." She breathed pensively through her nose for a few seconds, weighing it up. In the end she decided she had nothing to lose. What was he going to do, kill her? "I'm depressed. Have been for... ooo, must be five years now. It doesn't look to be getting any better, and I'd like it to stop. It's like I'm looking out at the World through a dirty window. Everything's tainted, it's all ruined. There's no joy in anything anymore." 

Johnson considered this, his face immobile behind the shades. "Well, sorry to tell you this but it sounds like you don't know Jack about depression." 

"Excuse me?!" This wasn't the "talking her down" line Jennifer had been expecting. 

"Depression isn't seeing things through a dirty window. It's being alone in a cold, dark room with no hope, no way out and nothing to think about except the one thing you desperately want to avoid - out of fear and embarrassment and a hate of the past." 

The severity of it took Jennifer's breath away. She floundered. "That's... very profound. You just come up with that?" 

"No, I think I read it somewhere." 

She nodded. "Well, it doesn't change anything. I still think life's too hard to be worth it." She said it defiantly; ready to fight whatever he came up with. Should have guessed he wouldn't argue. 

Instead, Johnson looked away for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was hard. "There's more you should read. For example: "The World breaks everyone, and afterwards, many are strong at the broken places." 

Jennifer was going to interrupt, when he continued: 

"But those that will not break, it _kills._ It kills the very good, and the very gentle, and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these, you can be sure it will kill you too - but there will be no special hurry." 

Johnson said the last line slowly, savouring each word. 

Jennifer swallowed. "That's, er, pretty bleak." 

"Hemmingway, I think." He grunted, and snapped out of it. "You got family, Jennifer? A boyfriend?" 

"A husband." 

"Won't he miss you, be upset if you do this now?" 

She looked into the sunglasses for a moment, and turned her left shoulder so that Johnson could see her back. There was a bruise above her kidney shaped like the sole of a boot. There were finger-shaped bruises on her arms. 

"I see. And you want to end this life, because you don't like the one you have." 

"Yes." 

"Would you take a chance on a new life instead of ending it?" 

"What? What do you mean?" 

"I need a new partner. I'm a private detective among other things, and my previous partner left recently. She fell in love with someone who can protect her better than I can. Much better, to give her credit. I'm asking whether you'd give it a try - no more husband, no more money problems. You'd be listed as "missing", and you'd come and work with me. Adventure, excitement... money." 

"It's still life. I get the feeling that it's going to be a disappointment just like everything else since I was about ten." 

"Well I won't promise it'll be perfect, but it might be _better. _ Just hold off making an irreversible decision until you know." 

She thought about it. "Why me? Is this something you just do - turn up and convince depressed women not to top themselves of an evening?" 

"Not often. You're special, but I don't even know if I'll ever be able to tap into that. You don't have a big destiny lined up, you weren't chosen to be a force for Good. No, I don't go out at night to save people from themselves... I just need another partner." 

They paused then, and she thought about it. Johnson seemed to realize for the first time that he was sitting less than a foot away from a naked woman in a bath, and he stood up. The mist from the hot water was clearing, and the mirror was dripping condensation onto the thick carpet. 

"Okay." 

-- 

"This is IT?" The girl was sat in the passenger seat, massaging her aching calves. "I'm bored out of my brain! Please don't tell me this kind of thing is standard." They'd been watching the warehouse for almost twelve hours. Johnson decided not to mention the number of times he'd pulled four-day surveillances. "I'm tired and cramped, and I'm sick of this damn car. Where the hell did you find it, anyway?" She grunted as she tucked her chin into her knees and worked her hands over the muscles in her legs. 

Johnson tried not to stare too much. She did have fantastic legs. They went well with her other fantastic curves, and the flash of a smile she'd almost permitted herself in the week since he'd met her. 

"This car's alright. It blends in." 

"It's rubbish. The engine is terrible, the seats are terrible, the rust-covered orange paint job is horrible. It's a piece of... it's just not good." 

"It blends in." He nodded to the vehicle next to them in the small car-park. It was Hungarian, and looked like it had a lawn mower engine under the bonnet. 

Johnson's head snapped up as a car approached the warehouse. It didn't stop, and drove off to the East. He relaxed again. Jennifer screamed. Nothing happened for another six hours. 

"Oh no, buddy - if I stay in the PI business, we're going to have to change the name. "Smith and Johnson" sounds like some kind of gun. Or shampoo. You can't-" 

The warehouse exploded. 

Jennifer gasped and threw her arms over her face, ducking. They were a little too close for an explosion that big to be comfortable. The only part of Johnson that moved was his right eyebrow, which lifted just clear of his sunglasses for a moment. He turned on the engine. 

"Wha... what the hell was that? What do we do now?" 

"Well, there's no point watching the building anymore, so I guess we go home." 

"What?! Do you even know why it blew up?" 

"No, but I'll find out. Just not here and now. Besides, we're going to have police and fire service here soon, and I'd rather be somewhere else." 

And so the dramatic and gripping first week of Jennifer's new employment drew to a close, and she decided that she definitely wasn't drunk enough for this. Johnson thought she was going to work out just fine, and reminded himself that telling his powers was something that was best left for a few more days. 

He suspected that telling her about _her_ potential powers was going to require serious amounts of beer. 


	2. The Rescue Blues, Part 1.

_They throw you down a rope when you're in trouble, baby   
Screamin', "Save me"   
Then they charge you with the Rescue Blues..._   
Ryan Adams (no 'B') - "The Rescue Blues". 

-------------------------------------- 

_How the hell did I end up here? _

'Here' is Johnson's office, if you can call it that. It's more like a bunker. Looks like a normal house in London until you get inside the door, and then everything's armour plated and got four locks on it. 

It's been three weeks since "Mr. Johnson" dropped into my bathroom with a job offer, and I still know nothing about him. Not even his first name - I started to call him "Snuggles" and he didn't seem to mind. 

His flat has no clues about his past at all, except for a few photos. One has him and three other people in it, looking really young. Two other boys and a Japanese girl, it looks like. There's one of him and a woman, and another of just him and a small girl. That one scared me - it was recent, and the girl was freaky. Her eyes weren't right: too old for her face, too disciplined. Creeps me out just looking at it. 

Johnson doesn't volunteer _any_ information about himself. He doesn't talk very much at all, really - his answering machine message is "Yep?" I am not kidding. 

So, now I've been there three weeks, and the conversation we had today is getting to be pretty typical. 

"Whoa, wait a minute. I'm totally lost here. There's an arranged marriage between this important guy and a woman. And there's another woman sent to assassinate him, but after six months working for him undercover she decides she's in love and doesn't do it." 

"Yeah." 

"But one night she confesses everything, and he DOESN'T have her shot, instead they sleep together and he decides he wants her instead." 

"Well, she was very pretty." 

"But she was going to KILL him!" 

"Yeah." 

A snort. "And THEN, the girl he was supposed to marry turns out to have some unsuitable guy she loves instead, so in the end they get to be together, and the rich guy marries the assassin." 

"...Yeah." 

"And this happened when?" 

"Last week in the City. I helped the Assassin to get away from her employer, and to sort out the disagreement between Rich Guy and Guy Who Wanted Him Killed." 

"...Don't you ever get 'I think my husband is cheating on me' jobs?" 

_So now I'm trying to get his filing into some sort of order and find out anything about the person I'm working for. To be honest, it's been so annoying that I haven't thought about giving up and taking the easy way out since I've been here. I've just gotta know._

The door opened with it's usual triple-chunk of locks, and Johnson entered. He was moving silently as always, which still creeped her out. "Hi." 

She put on her "animated and smiley" face, trying to get him to show SOME glimmer of humanity. "Morning! How was the meeting with... oh, wait, you never told me who it was with. Again." She gave a big smile. 

Johnson looked up at her briefly, and his usual controlled expression didn't change. "We have to go see Chinese Guy." 

Jennifer blinked. "_Chinese Guy?!_" He didn't seem about to volunteer any more information. "That's what people call him, 'Chinese Guy'?" 

"No, mainly it's just me. We need to go now." 

They arrived in Chinatown half an hour later, and went straight to the place. It looked too busy to hold a private meeting - people were walking in and out carrying food, washing, books... and none of them were looking at the old Chinese man in the corner. He was sitting in a high-backed armchair in front of a fire, and looking carefully at a chess board. There were only five pieces left on it. There were also some worn, creased playing cards laid out on the back rows of the board. Jenny couldn't see the markings on the cards. 

Johnson sat in a chair opposite without even greeting the Old Guy. Jennifer reluctantly chose the chair next to Johnson's, not wanting to give offense but ignorant of the old man's name. When the Chinese spoke, he didn't bother with niceties, just went straight into it. 

"There is a situation. A dangerous person is going to come back into your life. It is an old friend, now an enemy. Do you know who it could be?" 

Johnson didn't show any emotion behind the sunglasses, but the lengthy pause before he replied revealed the strength of his surprise. "I don't have many old friends. There is one. We are no longer friends, I didn't know he was still alive." 

The Chinese Dude considered this. "He is alive, as is another old friend. The first strikes at the other, soon. Do you know who they could be?" 

"There's pretty much only two people it could be. Do you know how soon?" 

The old man breathed slowly, and answered with a cracked voice. "Within a week. It is bad - there is more than just personal hatred here. The consequences reach... to me. Eventually." 

They sat in silence for a moment, and the old guy spoke again. "I don't have anything more for you at this time. I will be in touch, but the path is clouded. Someone else of your level is involved. It will take time to see it clearly." 

Johnson stood. "Thank you. I will do what I can." He didn't offer to shake hands, and didn't bow. 

"Be careful. There is treachery here, and false assumptions." 

"Thanks." 

Smith followed her employer out into the streets. 

------------------- 

"What the hell was that about? Do you really have so few friends that you know who he means from THAT much info?" 

"Old friends. I've got several new ones, very few old ones." 

"It's one of the boys in that photo, isn't it?" 

He didn't reply. That was the limit of the answers she was going to get. 

------------------------ 

It was Wednesday, four days after they'd been to see the Chinese man. She'd learnt a bit more - the three others in the photo were Mark, Christopher and lastly Sarah, who was only half-Japanese. Johnson hadn't seen Mark in ten years, but they were still on speaking terms. Johnson and Christopher weren't. They both fell for Sarah, hard. She married Christopher, but he still treated Johnson as though she'd picked him instead. The men hadn't met since they were 22, because if they did then one probably wouldn't walk away. As far as Johnson could figure it, Christopher was going to make some sort of attack on Mark, in the next few days. 

"Hello Mark." 

She'd never heard Johnson's voice so timid or quiet, but the man in the suit spun around as though a Sergeant-Major had just shouted his name. 

"Well. You really did mean it." Slowly, as though not quite believing it, Mark walked up to them and shook Johnson's hand in both of his. Then they embraced. 

"It's good to see you, man. What's it been, nine years?" 

"Something like that." She couldn't see the eyes behind the sunglasses, but she didn't to. 

"So you think Chris is finally coming to collect, huh?" 

"Yeah. Looks that way." 

Mark nodded, and walked over to a big chair behind his desk. He sat in it, and took a deep breath, looking intently at Johnson. "So what are we gonna do about it?" 

---------------- 

It was dark now. Johnson had left her with Mark in a hotel, and was himself sitting cross-legged on the floor of Mark's office. The lights were out, and it was silent. Behind the sunglasses, his eyes were shut as he sent his senses out and through the corridors and stairwells of the building. At half-past ten, he felt it. 

The hitman was a mortal, but an extraordinarily good one. The fact that Chris had sent him meant that firstly he had a lot of money, and secondly that he wanted Mark dead badly enough to spend a large part of it. Johnson tracked the man's progress up the lift shaft and across the offices. He remembered the name now - Cavanaugh. Very, very good. Damn. 

The assassin was a black liquid shadow amongst the few moonlight rays and glimmers from street lamps outside. He was on the third floor now, moving silently. He pulled a matt-black gun from his clothing: Johnson recognized it immediately. Hi-Standard .22, with a silencer. It was a small gun, but had an incredible muzzle velocity - the CIA's favourite handgun for a long time. 

Johnson waited. 

As the man reached his floor, Johnson pulled back, feeling his way along the rooms and corridors. He frowned. Something else. It was like a rough patch of road, a smudged charcoal blur. Now he couldn't even find it again. Damn. No time, the hitman was nearly there. 

Johnson stood, and readied his guns. The man was half-way along this floor now, coming this way. He'd have to go left around the stairwells and then through the- 

The dart took Johnson in the arm, and the next one in the shoulder. A black shadow dropped from the ceiling, and then he was being hit - a sharp stunning pain in his chest, then a smash to his head that spun him to the floor. Through groggy eyes he saw a figure, looked like a ninja, pull two long knives from it's suit and hold them running back along it's arms. Cavanaugh appeared at the door to the office, and the ninja somersaulted towards him, twisting in the air. The blades slashed and stabbed before the Hi-Standard was even brought up to fire. With a final chest strike and a snapped front kick, the Ninja sent the dead hitman flying back into the office beyond. 

Johnson was on his feet, and pulled his own sword. He knew better than to waste time trying to hit this guy with a gun. The assassin jumped - and kept going. It covered nearly the length of the room, and was on Johnson. The strikes and parries from the two rang out in the silence, with the grunts and breathing the only other sounds. It went on for two, three seconds. Four. Then Johnson feinted a slash and instead dropped his weapon and punched straight at the Ninja's face. With a grunt, his opponent collapsed to the floor. Catching him, Johnson ripped the hood away. The bright moonlight from the window to his left cut across the high cheekbones and full lips, as the head lolled back in his arms. 

It was Sarah. 


	3. The Rescue Blues, Part 2.

_And everybody wants to see you suffer,   
They know that you need the pain so much   
They throw you up a rope when you're too high   
To cruise, baby   
Lord, you lose lady,   
Then they charge you with the Rescue Blues..._   
Ryan Adams (no 'B') - "The Rescue Blues". 

-- 

The next few days were tense. 

Jennifer was worried. She hadn't seen Johnson look so unsettled before. He nearly _flinched_ at one point yesterday, for goodness sake. It was all since he'd brought back this "Sarah." He looked at her like... well, Jenny had never seen Johnson look that way at women, and certainly not at her. What was so special about this one? 

Johnson and Sarah were sitting on the sofa when Jennifer entered the room. They weren't sitting close together, but the air between the two was electric. There was lots of eye contact and significant pauses. Jennifer felt unnerved again, until she realized what was wrong. _Johnson wasn't wearing his sunglasses_. She was shocked - she felt like she'd walked in on him naked, or something. His eyes were green, and gentle. 

She asked if they wanted her to leave, but Johnson shook his head. Sarah continued speaking to him. "I didn't know it was you. I didn't expect you to be involved so soon." 

Johnson turned back to her, and replied in a voice much more human than Smith remembered hearing from him. "Why does Chris want to kill Mark? Why did you stop the hitman?" 

Sarah swallowed and looked down at her hands. "Chris is dead." She didn't look up. 

"So who ordered the hit?" 

She just repeated it. "He's dead." 

"Oh." Johnson blinked. "Damn." Dead, but still up and about. 

"He'd been making money, and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Last year he made the move up to the next level. Now he's systematically clearing up the loose ends from his past." "When did you leave? When did you train in..." he motioned to the black ninja hood on the desk. 

Sarah looked pointedly at Jennifer and shook her head. "Later." 

Johnson thought about it, and believed that Jennifer was soon going to encounter some things she wasn't ready to deal with. He decided to give her the "Vampires and Magic" pep talk. It didn't go down well. Neither did his demonstrations of numina as proof that he wasn't making it up. It wasn't that she didn't believe him - that would have been much easier. Jennifer took some time out to think about how she'd deal with all this, and the others went back to planning a solution to the current problem. 

The next step was to try and convince Christopher to stop the hit. That would take time to arrange, and in that time Sarah would be staying with Johnson. 

That afternoon, the beautiful Japanese woman was looking around the house which doubled as an office. She picked up one of the framed photos: the one of Johnson and another woman. 

"Was she a lover?" The oriental accent was heavier when Sarah was nervous. 

Johnson's voice was flat. "Yes. She'd dead now." 

"I'm sorry." Sarah seemed genuinely sad. "Does it hurt?" 

"Not as much as knowing I never let myself fully love her, because... I was waiting for you." 

Sarah gasped, and looked up at him. She swallowed and struggled to get her expression under control. The day was filled with private moments like that, and Jenny didn't want to be around when the two obviously had so much to work through. 

She decided to go on guard duty over Mark, at a safehouse. 

-- 

Jenny didn't see Johnson again in person for nearly a week. When she returned to the office, he was there and looking even more conflicted than usual. 

"Wow. You look like hell. Guess you slept with her, huh?" The sharp look that comment received nearly scared her enough to make her drop her bag. She swallowed and tried again. "So what's the plan?" 

"I've arranged a meeting with Christopher." 

Smith hesitated. "I thought you said Vampires were super-strong and fast with very little conscience?" 

"Yes." 

"Is Sarah going?" 

"I'm not telling her about it. She'd want to go along, and she could get killed." 

"But you won't?" 

"Not yet, no. Unless I try to kill Chris, which I will." 

"...Right." 

"I want you to stay here with Sarah. You know the security routines. I shouldn't be longer than two hours." 

Jennifer just nodded numbly. For the first time since she'd met him, she wasn't sure he was up to this. 

-- 

This was theoretically a peaceful meeting. Chris wouldn't kill him until he'd got Mark and Sarah - Johnson was sure about that. Nevertheless, he packed two stakes, two pistols and some grenades. He was checking the last of these as he approached the offices on foot. A nice anonymous front for Chris's business, in the rougher industrial estates of London. Chris was due to meet him inside in 20 minutes. 

Pistol in hand, Johnson entered the code on the security gate. He pushed the door open slowly with his other hand and aimed the gun into the dark interior. At the far end of the hall was a small patch of light. On full alert, Johnson walked slowly towards it... a desk lamp, illuminating the desk below it. There was only one sheet of A4, with Chris's handwriting on it. Still recognizable after ten years. 

_As you probably guessed, I'm saving you for last. You get to suffer the most, you little insect. First I'm going to deal with that traitorous bitch, then you and I will meet. Bring as many peashooters as you want. _

It wasn't signed. Johnson left the building at a dead run. 

-- 

"What do you mean he went without me?" For all her oriental mannerisms, this Sarah could be really rude when it suited her. 

"He thought you'd insist on coming along." Jennifer brought the plates in from the lounge and put them in the sink. 

"You're damn right I would! I want to see Chris die just as badly - I was married to him, after all." She fumed. 

Jennifer was getting tired of playing nice. "Listen, if you don't think-" 

The Lounge window exploded inwards and the two women ducked to the floor, Jennifer screaming and covering her face. A shape landed on the lounge floor and stood up to become a man with a submachine gun. He sprayed the kitchen with fire and reloaded, advancing. 

The cupboard in front of Jennifer was riddled with holes, and she felt a burning slash across her leg. When she looked down, she was bleeding: the bullet had cut the outside of her thigh. Grimacing, she rolled back and grabbed a tea-towel to press against it. It wasn't deep, but blood loss could be serious. _Of course, so is getting shot. I'd better move..._ Jen crawled towards the sink. 

Sarah leapt over the counter with a kitchen knife in each hand. She kicked the machine pistol out of the man's grip and across the room, then slashed at him with both knives. She was fast. He was faster. Seeing the teeth and skin, no-one could doubt this was a Vampire. 

"Dino. You're st- _uh_." 

He easily parried Sarah's attacks, and a backhand sent her flying through the air to lie twitching in the corner. 

Jennifer stood with a knife of her own, and advanced on him slowly. In a blink, he was behind her and her arm was numb. The knife clattered to the floor, and the vampire had his hand under her chin, forcing her head to the side. She was lifted clear of the floor, and her bleeding leg spasmed in pain. 

"Downstairs had some nice security - but you've gotta remember the windows." It was a growl, with a sickening gloating to it. Slowly, the vampire dragged a nail along the outside of Jenny's throat, opening the artery. She screamed as the first spray of blood misted into the air, and he laughed. "You shouldn't have-" 

The knife flew from Sarah's hand and took him just over the left eye. It sank into the creature's head almost to the hilt, and he fell back with a roar. Jennifer hit the floor and couldn't get her legs under her. She tried to get the tea-towel to compress the throat wound, but her arms weren't behaving either. Sarah leapt over to the monster and cut it's head clear from the body with one slash. She stood, panting. 

"Get pressure on it. Gods, you've lost a lot of blood - compress the cut!" She grabbed the phone. There was no tone. "Dammit! They cut the-" 

Chris was there, his hand hard over her mouth, the other twisting her arms behind her. Sarah kicked straight up - her foot came up to her head level and almost behind her into his face, but he pushed her forward and moved a little to the side. 

"Sarah, Sarah..." Chris looked like a businessman, until you got to the eyes. Jennifer was breathing hoarsely, but she couldn't stop it all blurring. Beyond the two figures, the corpse of the first vampire continued to rot. 

"So much anger, Sarah. The things I could teach you about anger..." She struggled in his grip again, but suddenly there was a tranquilizer dart in her neck and she couldn't hold on to consciousness. "Later, my dear. Plenty of time for that later." 

Jennifer saw the Oriental woman slump in his arms, then she passed out as well and saw nothing but blackness. 

-- 

Jen was lying on the floor in a large pool of blood, and she wasn't moving. Johnson ran to her, and tried to find a pulse. Still there, but barely. He dressed the wound and did what he could to stabilize her, but she needed blood right now. He used his mobile to speed-dial a long number. 

"Fight it, Jennifer. I know when we met you had an agenda, but I'm asking you to fight now. Hold onto it. Come _on_." 

-- 

When she came to, Jennifer was in a white room with a door in the right wall. It opened immediately and Johnson came in. "Hi. You're still with us, then." 

She tried to respond, but her voice was scratched and her brain couldn't make sense of the words. 

"Don't worry, it'll take a few days before you're back to speed." 

She managed a croak. "_...Hospi-cough-pital?_" 

He shook his head. "No, nothing even close. Don't worry, you're safe here." 

"_...Sarah._" 

"He's got her, hon, and he wants me to come collect her myself." 


	4. The Rescue Blues, Part 3.

_And everybody wants to see you fall   
That's why they always love to get you high   
And everybody knows you need to pain so much, lady   
Well, keep in touch, baby   
Just don't charge me with your Rescue Blues..._   
Ryan Adams (no 'B') - "The Rescue Blues". 

-- 

Jenny guessed it was for the best. Johnson was back to his usual silent, focused self. She suspected it was a mix of anger and guilt at Sarah's abduction, but at least he was concentrating again. 

She'd been back on her feet for a week now, and was almost up to full strength. She'd been eating and drinking like crazy, and short walks weren't enough to tire her now. The men at the place she'd been in said that she was "lucky" - hadn't felt like it at the time. 

"What's the plan?" She tried to sound casual. 

"You're not coming." Johnson didn't look up from the computer, and his sunglasses were back on. 

"Did I say I wanted to? I never said..." 

"You're not coming. It's too dangerous, there's no way an untrained mortal would make it out alive." 

"Oh, you're frightened I might die? And what'll happen if you don't come back, huh? This is my alternative life, the one that keeps me from finding out what the next step is. If you get killed, I'm a week away from trying the pills. I didn't sign up to be safe, I became your partner because I didn't want my life anymore. Helping you take down that guy would be a far better way to go for me." 

Johnson started to say something, about three times. Then he closed his mouth and nodded once. 

"We can't count on help from Sarah. By now she'll be blood-bound, if she's still alive. It's like hypnotism. He'll probably want her there when I arrive, just to rub it in. He's like that." He kept typing. 

"Are you sure he's going to agree to meet?" 

"He's already sent the letter." Johnson gestured to a sheet of paper on the table. "It's a warehouse in a very protected area." 

"So what do we do next?" She read the sheet slowly, trying to decipher the handwriting. 

"We're going to need many, many guns. I know a man who can help us." 

-- 

"Hello Marcus." The garage was in the middle of nowhere, and it was dark now. If she hadn't been with Johnson, she would turned around and left this part of town a long time ago. 

"Johnson!" The man sounded like he had a bad cold. Something about the voice made Jenny uneasy. Then she realized it was the same kind of half-growl that the vampire had spoken in back in the house. 

"I hear you need guns, man. I haven't had an order this big in quite some time." 

Johnson nodded. "Seeing Chris tomorrow." 

"So I heard. I'm sorry, I'd offer to come along, but he's been pulling some major strings. If I show up there, I get my entire Clan into a whole heap of trouble." 

"Don't worry, my friend. It's under control. I just need the items we discussed." 

"Of course..." 

They walked into a back room even more filthy than the garage workshop. Marcus leant over a bench and adjusted a clamp. 

The wall in front of them slid back to reveal the _biggest collection of Very Big Guns Jennifer had ever seen._ She gasped. "My God! What are you hunting, F16's?!" 

Marcus looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, you want to-" 

"No, that's fine Marcus." Johnson cut in. "We'll stick with the original order." 

Ten minutes later they were in possession of three very large and frightening guns. 

-- 

Chris's lair was as unoriginal as you get. There was even a _Throne_, for goodness sake. Escorted by a ghoul, Smith and Johnson walked carefully to the end of the huge room. They had been allowed to keep their guns, as though it was of no consequence. 

"Hello Chris. Long time." Johnson's voice was back to it's normal, flat self. Jenny was pleased. 

"Only relatively, my man. Time for me just got moved up to a bigger scale." 

"Congratulations. Obviously I intend to cut yours short tonight." 

"Of course you do. And rescue the girl, of course..." Christopher clapped once, and Sarah emerged from the shadows behind the throne. She was wearing... well, pretty sensible clothes really. Her face was wrong, though. Rapturous. Too sure of itself. 

Johnson spoke up. "Ah, you did blood-bond her. I wondered." 

"Oh yes. I hope that doesn't spoil any plans you had?" 

"Not at all. In fact the situation should resolve itself-" Johnson glanced at his watch. "Any time... now." 

Nothing happened. Then, Sarah gasped and stumbled. The look in her eyes was gone, and she ran to Johnson, staggering. Chris was on his feet. "What the hell did you...? You can't break a blood-bond in an instant! You..." 

"The man responsible can't be here due to... technical difficulties... but then he doesn't have to be. I called in a hell of a lot of favours tonight, Chris. I'll be paying _that_ one off for quite some time. Have you been doing this long enough to have any stored up?" 

Chris snarled, and his fingers bunched into fists. "And I was going to have her fight you, too. Oh well. I'll have to get Tony to do it instead." He sat down again, and a large vampire walked to the centre of the room. He smiled, and ran at the three mortals. 

Johnson had his gun up and firing before 'Tony' reached them. He got one shot off, then the firearm was skidding across the floor and Tony was throwing him in the opposite direction. If the Vampire noticed that he'd been hit, he gave no sign. Tony was too close to Sarah now for Jennifer to get a shot off. She didn't have a lot of practice with guns, and Marcus had warned her to find a big space before shooting the one she was carrying. 

Sarah wasn't as easily outclassed in close combat as Johnson had been. The two fought their way back and forth across the room, kicking and striking. Sarah's face was bloody and she was limping now, but the Vampire wasn't showing any signs of being inconvenienced. He knocked her down and prepared to stamp on her head. 

Which was when Jennifer put the sawn-off shotgun against his face and pulled the trigger. 

She'd been hoping Chris would be worried by now. Neither Johnson or Sarah were in any state to keep fighting, and Jenny was still a little weak from blood loss. The Vampire on the throne just laughed. 

"Well, I think it's time to get to the main event. Tony was average, but I've beaten him myself on several occasions, and I've been waiting for this match for quite a few years now." He stood and walked towards Johnson, who was just back on his feet. "Are you going to struggle? Do you think there's any gun or blade you've got that can harm me?" 

Johnson's voice was a whisper, but it carried. "No. The guns were never for you." He dropped his, and two more pistols. "None of us here are nearly good enough to kill _you_, Chris. That's why I brought some backup." He smiled, and it wasn't nice to look at. "A Chinese friend of mine lent me someone, until sunrise anyway. I believe it's a personal matter." 

In the shadows behind them, a heavily accented voice said "It's about time we settled up, you _Gweilo_ piece of shit." 

Chris looked as though he was expecting Godzilla. He stumbled back towards the throne. The new figure emerged out of the darkness like he belonged there and was only coming out grudgingly. It was a tall Chinese man, with a strikingly handsome face and piercing dark eyes. His smile was somewhat spoiled by the huge fangs, and a second later, by the horns and claws. Chris shouted an obscenity, and turned to advance again on the newcomer. 

"You want to take me on? Come on then. I'm sick of your constant raids on my people, you and your slanty-eyed friends. Lets see if you fight as hard as you talk, eh?" Fear had given way to anger, and in Chris it was frightening to behold. In the Chinese warrior's case, it was terrifying. The next few seconds were so fast that you had to follow the action from the sounds of hits being made. 

Both creatures were frenzying, and everyone else was busy running to the corners of the room. The battle between the undead was absolutely brutal - claws met flesh, jagged teeth ripped and bit. The Chinese was smaller, but the old saying applied well here. It's not the size of the Dog in the Fight, it's the size of the Fight in the Dog. Both these monsters had fights in them that were ready and waiting every second of the night. Beast went up against P'o, and the resulting all-out frenzy was merciless. 

Chris's body was rotting before it hit the floor. The other one wasn't looking too healthy, but managed to calm down after tearing at his opponent's prone form for a while. He wiped his mouth, and walked straight up to Johnson. 

The accent was heavier now, but still understandable. "Thank you. Tonight was free - it was something I wanted anyway. I will pass on to my Mistress that she still owes you a favour." 

Johnson nodded. "Thank you." 

The creature nodded back, then ran into the shadows at the far end of the hall. After a few seconds, no more footsteps could be heard. 

Everyone went home. 

-- 

"Is she staying?" 

Jennifer had waited two days to ask the question, but now she'd said it out loud she wanted to take it back. "I mean, I only ask because it's going to affect you, and..." 

"She's not staying." 

There didn't seem to be much to say to that. 

His voice was gravelly, and wobbled for a second. "It's complicated. She'll be around. We'll see what happens. But no, she's not staying now." 

Jennifer bit her lip and said nothing. After a few seconds, she shook her head. "The attack, here. It..." She rubbed the small scar on her neck. "It made me re-assess some stuff. I'm thinking of sticking around for a while. As long as you need me." 

Behind his glasses, Johnson blinked. 

"Good. You can come with me this afternoon. I have to see a man about some Dogs." 

As she suspected, this turned out to be just as far away from what it sounded like as his meetings usually were. 


	5. Loose Ends.

It looked like being a normal Friday until the ghost turned up in the dining room. Johnson and Smith had been going through the accounts when an enormous screaming apparition appeared in front of the television. It gradually faded to be replaced by the image of a man. Johnson seemed more scared of this man than he had been of the spirit.  
  
"Hello Johnson. New lady in your life, I see. Maybe I'll take her from you, like you took Karen."  
"I never 'took' Karen, Marius. She just left you."  
"Whatever. I was just thinking that it's been too long since I killed one of your women, so I popped in to say Khazar-sp'nek-cshthu-tann…"  
  
Johnson was on his feet and shouting. "No! Don't do this, Marius, don't-" It was too late. The image faded, and Johnson hung his head on his chest. From her chair, Jennifer took a breath. "Please tell me that wasn't as bad as it sounded."  
"It's a curse. Midnight tonight he'll open a link between you and him, and you'll fight, mentally."  
"You don't sound like I have much of a chance of winning. I don't suppose there's a prize for second place?"  
There was no reply. He walked into the kitchen, deep in thought.  
  
She ran after him. "You know him. Who is he?"  
"His name is Marius. At least, that's what he calls himself. I suppose he's what you could call my arch-enemy. You know the photo in the office?"  
"You and the woman?"  
"Yes. He killed her. He's… very, very dangerous. He's borrowed a lot of power. Stolen it. …This isn't good."  
She swallowed nervously. "Is he more powerful than you?"  
"Oh yes. Much."  
  
They went to see Chinese guy.  
  
--  
  
"Well, as I see it you've got three choices."  
  
They were alone with Chinese Guy in a dark room behind his usual meeting place. "The first is to do nothing and see if she wins. It's not much of a plan, but it's important to realise that the option is there."  
"Second: take the fight to Marius, and kill him before the link opens. You're going to have to move fast if you want to reach him before midnight."  
"Third: Awaken the girl."  
  
Johnson spluttered. "I know you have people who can do that, but no! The conduit for the duel will be available to her anyway – the last thing she needs is the Technocracy taking an interest, Paradox, Resonance, Avatar Winds, being detectable by all her enemies, rival Mages… no. Let's keep it simple. I think it's time I resolved Marius' problems with me. Permanently, with any luck.  
  
Chinese guy nodded. "Ah. Luck."  
  
Jennifer shook her head. "Do you even know where he is?"  
Johnson nodded. "Yes, I've known where his base is for a long time, I just couldn't beat him before."  
"But you can now?"  
He didn't answer.  
  
--  
  
"If we're going up against Marius, I'm gonna need to bring a few friends."  
"Sarah, for example?" There was something in Jenny's voice, but Johnson couldn't read it.   
"Probably, if she's still talking to me. It's over between us, and things are tricky now. I'll call Jack and Michael. You'll like Michael – he looks like Riff from 'Sluggy Freelance'."  
"Oh, you read that too?"  
"We'll need a spirit expert. Might have to play it a little dangerously there, but we'll see."  
  
With no time to prepare anything more, they met up a mile away from Marius' base. As well as Sarah, Jack and Michael, a man called Bernado was there. He had a thick Italian accent, but spoke English well.   
  
A quiet cough from the shadows made them jump. The figure that emerged carried a long sword and was dressed like… well, like Sarah. There was a definite "Ninja" fashion statement being made. Without speaking, he somersaulted into the middle of the group and started attacking. Within seconds everyone except Sarah was diving for cover from his sword. The enemy looked as though he hadn't expected such opposition from her, and turned to run. Sarah followed, with Johnson on his feet and running after them.  
  
Jennifer caught up to Johnson. "Who the hell was that?"   
He panted as they continued the chase. "Marius's lieutenant. In a swordfight, he could probably kill us all. Even Bernado… Johnson stopped running. "Oh great."  
"What? C'mon, he's getting away!"  
Her boss shook his head. "Don't bother." He pointed at Sarah and the Swordsman.  
  
Both figures had jumped – and kept going, flying through the dark alleys and onto broken rooftops.  
  
"She'll have to deal with him alone. Damn, I hate it when they do that." Suddenly turning on his heel, he spun to look at Jennifer. "Do you know who flies like that? Angels and Witches. Ironic, huh?" Frowning, he stomped back to the meeting place. She blinked and followed.  
  
They proceeded into an even worse neighbourhood, and got there at ten minutes to midnight. They were met by nearly ten guards, all carrying guns. The guards didn't seem worried in the slightest that the team had hardware of their own. They brought them into the main room of the warehouse.   
  
Jennifer frowned. "Wait a minute… big warehouse, throne at one end… weren't we here a few weeks ago?"  
"No, that was an entirely different lair of evil."  
"Oh."  
  
This one was big and dark, with a throne in the centre of the far wall and two circles in the far corners. It was only when they got halfway to that end that Jennifer saw the ghosts trapped in those circles. They didn't look happy to be there.  
  
"Hello Johnson." Geez, this Marius guy even gloated professionally.  
  
"Hello Marius. Still trying to mess with my life because of five years ago?"  
"Still bitter about the girlfriend who died, Johnson?" That hit home. "Thought so. You're late. There's thirty seconds until it starts. Make your move now."  
  
Johnson shrugged and pulled a desert eagle from his coat.  
  
"Here we go…" Michael pulled a huge rifle from under his, and made a full-length dive, firing to his left. Bernado dived for cover as Jack produced two pistols and ducked behind a pillar.  
  
The bullets started flying.  
  
--  
  
Sarah and the Lieutenant found a nice secluded car-park and went to work properly. Sword attacks rang out as they struck other swords, cars and tarmac. Both warriors were uncompromising and accurate. After a flurry of blows from the man, Sarah's blade broke – she quickly trapped and snapped his as well. It was risky, but nowhere near as bad as empty hands versus a sword. He nodded, and seemed eager to change to hand-to-hand techniques. She obliged him.  
  
Jennifer couldn't move. She'd seen Marius run with incredible speed to a pillar on her left, and she'd been trying to shoot him. He'd stuck his head out and looked straight at her, and now her legs didn't work. Or her arms. Standing slowly, Marius walked through the hail of bullets towards her.  
  
Bernado made a run for the throne. Ducking behind it, he started to gesture towards one of the bound spirits. It writhed, but stayed within the circle. A bullet tore through Bernado's arm, and he was thrown back. The spirit disappeared completely. Bernado swore and pulled out a handgun.  
  
Johnson saw Marius surface, and lined up on the man's head. "This is for Isabelle, you evil fuck."  
  
--  
  
She was pinned by his gaze. The fighting and explosions raged around them, but she couldn't even feel the shockwaves. The wall to her right blew in, and debris and dust filled the air – but she wasn't touched. Rooted in the middle of the swirling storm, the two of them walked slowly towards each other. Sounds faded out around her and Jennifer almost expected to find just herself and Marius in a void somewhere… but they remained in the main room, merely untouched by the bullets and the swords and the flying masonry.  
  
They were ready. Taking a slow breath, Jennifer felt the bridge open between them. Suddenly, their own quiet pocket was filled with a storm much fiercer than the one men made around them.  
  
Johnson swore as his shot seemed to go wide. He knew better, and he didn't like it. Turning to cover Jack, he concentrated on the figures he was going to be able to hit.  
  
--  
  
Sarah's arms were heavy now, and both her and her enemy were breathing heavily. Her mind began to question the sensibleness of continuing – was it worth it? Her forearms hurt from blocking punches, and as the fight went on, the little doubting voice in her head had longer to talk to her. ~You could get really hurt! Back away now, he's too good…~ and on and on. By this point, though, the anger was working and both fighters were focused on only one thing: damaging the other. Every movement, every strike was pointed towards the other. When he moved left, the whole of her focus moved with him. Soon, the gap between attacks lengthened, and technique faltered. Exhausted, they swung haymakers and panted through kicks with little strength behind them.  
  
Then he pulled the knife. He'd obviously run out of patience indulging her. It wasn't big, but it would do the job if she didn't stop him. Charging her to the ground, he leant his weight down on the blade, sinking it towards her face.  
  
It's an accepted fact that you have to be very much stronger than the other person to win from underneath in this case. All the films where the hero manages to push back just don't work unless the guy on top has asthma and the one underneath is a Crinos Garou. Sarah knew this, and helped the knife down next to her cheek instead of pushing back along the line her would-be murderer was leaning down on.  
  
In the warehouse, Johnson rolled from behind the pillar and shot at two men who were pinning down Jack and Michael.  
  
Jennifer screamed and threw herself against the walls Marius was putting up against her. His fire washed over her, blasting her back to the floor.  
  
Sarah grappled with her attacker, turning the small blade back towards his throat. With a final twist, it entered her opponent's neck and her enemy gasped in surprise. He staggered to his feet, clawing ineffectually at the knife as though he couldn't quite believe it was there. Standing shakily, Sarah watched him for a second then took a breath and snapped her left foot up to hammer the weapon hard into him. He fell back and bounced off the wall behind them, then collapsed to the ground.   
  
--  
  
She couldn't beat him. There was a river of fire linking them to each other, and he was pulling her into it while he stayed safe behind steel walls. She couldn't fight back, she could barely stay conscious against the pain… Jennifer concentrated on just hanging in there. Suddenly there was a gap – she poured all her remaining energy into it.  
  
It wasn't enough. But the tide against her was lessening… maybe he was weakening too. Yes! He was – she hadn't killed him, but maybe there was a time limit? The link was breaking and she was still alive.  
  
--  
  
Marius came out of the trance at the same time as Jennifer. She crumpled and hit the floor unconscious. Marius spun around to see how the mundane battle had gone, and saw Johnson sitting on the floor, leaning back and resting on his hands behind him. A few guards were still firing at the far end of the room.  
  
Their gazes locked, and Johnson transmitted a picture of Isabelle into the Summoner's mind. His voice was quiet, tight and sad.  
  
"You shouldn't have killed the girl, asshole."  
  
With his right hand, Johnson smeared the chalk circle holding the second spirit in place.  
  
The sound was deafening – the bound spirit, chained for years while Marius fed from it and drained it's power for himself, shrieked across the room past Johnson and straight towards it's tormentor.  
  
When it was finished some minutes later, the team had regrouped and were checking each other. They suddenly realised that the act of releasing the spirit was no guarantee of its goodwill towards them. It advanced towards the sitting figures of Johnson and Jennifer… and Bernado stood in its way.  
  
"Sorry, spirit. I think Latin will have to do for you." He held up a hand, and the manifested entity screamed and shied away from him. With a professional calm, Bernado dismissed it back to it's own world.  
  
Panting, Jack dropped to the floor in a crouch and wiped his forehead. Sarah walked in the door at the far end, and quickly saw that the fight was over. Jack frowned.   
  
"Wait a minute. Are you saying that all four of us, AND Sarah, AND the girl came out of this alright?"  
Johnson looked around. "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, Bernado got shot, but that's not such a big deal for him."  
"Are you serious? How the hell did we do this without a scratch?"  
Johnson coughed. "Er… I may have got some friends to give us good luck for tonight. Kind of thing."  
There was a pause as everyone digested this.  
Jack shook his head. "Oh, I am DEFINITELY working with you again. I like your friends. Tell them I said thanks."  
  
--  
  
The next day, Jennifer was humming to herself as she tidied up her desk and got ready to go home.  
"What are you so happy about?"  
"I have a date. Unlike you, Johnson, I intend to HAVE a social life."  
"Who's it with?"  
"…Michael." She left, hastily.  
Johnson grinned. "Knew she'd like him." He almost kept the grin from slipping, and merely looked thoughtful as he decided he needed a drink. 


	6. And now for something completely differe...

WARNING – this chapter has a slushiness rating right off the scale.  
  
--  
  
Johnson sat back in his chair and sighed.   
  
She'd been seeing Michael for three weeks now. And that was great, right? …No, it wasn't great.  
  
"Everything going well with you two?" He tried to make his voice sound nonchalant. After all, he'd set them up together, right?  
"Yes." Jennifer tried to make it light, but the twinge she got in her stomach took some of the genuiness out of her tone.  
  
"Oh. Good." This was stupid. He knew his rules: Never get involved with the staff. So why was he looking forward to the start of the day, and feeling somehow let down when she left at 5pm? Maybe he was just imagining it.  
  
"We're going to the Theatre tomorrow night."  
  
Okay, so he wasn't imagining it. The fact that she was going out with Michael stung him, deeply. Well, tough – he couldn't afford to do anything about it.  
"That's great, knew you'd get on well."  
"Yes."  
Well, wasn't this fun. To be fair, she looked as though someone was slowly twisting a knife in her stomach, too. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.  
  
Jennifer screamed inside. Why did he have to be so detached, dammit? The professional exterior – the only time she'd seen it slip was when he was with Sarah (or "That Bitch" as Jennifer had named her, and now routinely called her that in her head without really thinking about it.)  
  
How was it that this 'Sarah' could get through to Johnson, but he wouldn't even LOOK at another woman? The dull ache in her chest that had started appearing whenever she was close to him, continued. It was spoiling things between her and Michael, she knew it. It was never going to work with Johnson, why didn't she just try with Michael? He was a nice guy, and tough, exciting… and she didn't want him. Because he wasn't the man in the room with her now, who thought her so insignificant that he barely looked at her.  
  
He could barely look at her. This had to stop. Even with his back turned as he made drinks, Johnson could feel her in the room. The nerves in his back tingled with the chance that she might walk closer. He didn't need any numina to see her there, like a second light bulb – everything else was less bright, and she took the centre of the room with her whenever she moved.  
  
This was getting ridiculous.  
  
When Jennifer left ten minutes later, he didn't see her pause in the doorway and bite her lip as she looked back. When the door closed, they both let out a held breath.  
  
He hadn't realised the feelings were there until she'd started going out with Michael. It couldn't be jealously, surely? Maybe it was to do with finally laying Isabelle to rest. It was genuine alright, the familiar glow/ache bittersweetness. Joy that she was part of his life, and pain that she wasn't a bigger part of it.  
  
Damn.  
  
--  
  
The next day passed with excruciating slowness. He started to wonder what she was doing every quarter of an hour. By the time evening came around, Johnson felt sick. She be out with Michael now. Maybe they'd be kissing… no, that wasn't what bothered him. What really frightened him, he realized, was that she might fall for Michael and there would be no chance for her and Johnson. Immediately, he berated himself. This wasn't a good idea! Relationships with people you work with could be a nightmare. He should try and lose the feeling. Just let it go – she'd probably be appalled if she knew he thought of her that way…  
  
Johnson sat there, conflicted and thoroughly miserable.  
  
When the doorbell rang, he jumped.  
  
"Hi. Can I come in?"  
What was she doing here? Johnson had to try twice before he could get the words out.  
"Er… Sure."  
He tried to keep his voice calm. As she walked past him and towards the lounge, he tried to stop himself looking at her soft mouth, her neck…   
  
Johnson coughed, and closed the door behind her.  
  
"Aren't you meant to be at the Theatre now?"  
"Uh… I called it off. I wanted to talk to you."  
"Really? What, is the Matthews thing getting you down? Don't worry, we'll find the kid…"  
  
"No, it isn't that." She sat on the couch and he reluctantly sat next to her. Even being this close was problem. He tensed and steeled himself to listen to her talk about Michael, and tried to get into a frame of mind where he could be encouraging.  
  
They sat there for a few seconds, facing front, looking at everything else in the room but each other. She spoke hesitantly.  
"It's about Michael. I… uh… that is, I…"  
Johnson clenched his jaw and made fists out of his hands to stop them shaking.  
  
"We… well, it's not that I don't like him, you know, it's just uh…" She was trembling now too, and chewing her lip. Their efforts to stare intently at furniture in opposite corners of the room redoubled.  
  
Johnson tried to get a grip on his mental state, but he was on fire. He repeated his rule like a mantra: Must not get involved with staff must not get involved with staff must not-  
  
"So I told him… we broke up, and, uh…"  
  
Jennifer turned a quarter of the way towards him and it was too much. The restraint gone, both of them threw themselves into each other's arms and kissed frantically. She pulled him down to the couch and was loosening clothing within seconds. Johnson tried to protest between kisses, but he didn't sound the least bit convinced. "Listen – this is - uh – a really bad idea… mm." He gave up and helped her remove their clothes.  
  
You'd think someone so adept at commanding the forces of reality to his will would have a little more willpower, huh?  
  
The next morning they woke up exhausted in his bed. Jennifer ran a hand through her hair and took a breath.  
  
"Okay. This just got a lot more complicated…" 


	7. Monday Morning.

Jennifer came downstairs at 8.30, wearing one of his t-shirts and with her hair messed. Johnson was in the kitchen, dressed in a suit and tie. He decided that he liked that look on her. A moment later he realized she was shaken and nervous.  
  
"Chinese Guy wants to talk to you. Does he often just appear in people's Dreams?"  
Johnson raised an eyebrow. "No, apparently just for you."  
"Great."  
  
He glanced at her again and sighed inwardly. It was no good. All his instincts told him to end this now – years of training had made it impossible for him to trust anyone enough for a relationship, and experience told him that he'd get her killed eventually. It was just that when he looked at her, there didn't seem to be a choice. Love is a strange thing.  
  
"So, which evil wrong-doers are we busting today?" Jennifer asked as she made coffee.  
"Couple of possibles. There's a guy called Morty who may have been sleeping with someone who's not technically his wife, there's a businessman called Hendricks who has been treading on the toes of people he shouldn't, and an Evil Genius called Carlos Frankenstein Bumblebee the Third who's got an island in the Carribean and is advertising for Henchmen."  
She tapped her foot. "Really?"  
"…No, not really. The first two, yes."  
"So who do we visit this morning?"  
  
Johnson put his mug down carefully and took a breath. "You're not coming." She got that look he was starting to recognize as 'trouble' and he knew this wasn't going to go smoothly.  
  
"Oh, I get it. It's alright to bring me along when we're facing two Vampires, not to mention psychotic curse-dropping Mages, but now we're sleeping together I'm suddenly too precious to risk, right? Have I just been moved off the 'expendable' list? Do I need to remind you that the danger was part of the reason I agreed to come with you that day?"  
  
"That's not it at all and you know it." He kept his voice level, but only just. "Hendricks is different. He's high class. The other missions were personal for me – old friends, old enemies, all on my level. This guy is out of my league, and yours. You can't take all of them on with friends and shotguns."  
This seemed to placate her a little. "So why are you on the case?"  
  
He swallowed. "I owe a lot of favours for getting Sarah's blood-bond broken. It's not a thing that's easy or done lightly, and I'm working off the debt. They owed me big before, now I owe them medium."  
"Oh." Jennifer didn't seem in a hurry to add anything to that.  
"Yeah. Anyway, it's probably not even up to me. There are several agencies interested in Hendricks. His own people have a political system so complicated that I wouldn't have a hope of playing with the big boys. Whoever he has on his side is powerful too… basically today is reconnaissance, and hopefully it stops there." Johnson was feeling edgy. Maybe this guy would just turn out to be a regular suit… it had happened before.  
She looked at him levelly. "So what are you hiding?"  
  
Johnson winced. "Before I go to see him, I need a friend's help. Specifically, Michael's."  
"Ah. Er… okay, I think I see it now. Will he be alright, what with me and you…?"  
"Probably not. You never know, though - I'm hoping we can behave like adults."   
  
--------  
  
Hendricks' office was plush. Very, very plush. It had obviously had several wheelbarrows of money thrown at it in order to send the message "I have more money than you. Be impressed." It nearly worked on Johnson, so it must be devastating for mortals. He'd made an appointment, but that was three days ago – plenty of time for Hendricks to find out who Johnson was, and block him today. Which is exactly what happened. "Oh, I'm sorry, he's in an emergency meeting right now…" The new black eye behind his sunglasses probably didn't help, but Johnson had expected this response. He told the receptionist that he'd try again tomorrow and walked away from the desk.   
  
Then he walked back up to it and past the girl, who for some reason didn't even look up, and made no attempt to stop him proceeding to the main office. No-one on the way seemed to notice him either.  
  
---------  
  
"Hello Hend- Oh, I'm sorry. I guess you actually were in a meeting."  
The intimidatingly tall figure in the circle of blue-white light and smoke didn't acknowledge Johnson, but kept his eyes on Mr. Hendricks.  
  
"The Agreement is satisfactory. I will act when the time comes." There was something wrong with that voice, and the face – there was no emotion visible, but it was as though an enormous amount was hidden behind a mask.  
Johnson grinned. "Oh, Anthony, Anthony. You've been playing with Angels again, haven't you? You know how upset that makes the Chorus."  
Hendricks didn't talk, but wore an unconcerned expression. The Spirit spoke evenly. "You're out of your depth here, newcomer. This isn't a game you can win."  
"I think you'll find I'm better acquainted with the rules than most."  
It still didn't turn to look at him, keeping it's eyes locked on it's Summoner. "Don't waste my time here, Child. No mortal can stand against an Angel and succeed."  
  
"Jacob did."  
  
This brought a snarl, and the impossibly tall figure spun to point it's finger at him. "That was part of a greater plan! Whoever told you the secret will pay with their soul – the hidden knowledge is a Sacred matter!" It turned back to the businessman. "I am done here." Without another word, it vanished.  
"It's in Genesis you schmuck…" Johnson shook his head.  
The rest of the interview went downhill from there.  
  
--------  
  
Johnson's summoning that night was successful. A small winged imp appeared in the circle and hovered, waiting for the message.  
"Hear me, servant. I send word of the enemy Hendricks. It is as your Masters suspected: he is allied with a powerful spirit – the Fortelling says that if he is approached, someone will die."  
"Dude, everyone's going to die. Be specific."  
"I have no more details. Take my message to those who own you."  
"Heh. No."  
"What?" Johnson was furious. "Do you doubt my power, worm? I'll give you so much pain you'll be flying into walls for a week!"  
The imp-thing chirped. "Oh, come now. I'm used to a higher class of Summoner. How am I supposed to take you seriously when you're walking around with someone Charming the hell out of you?"  
Johnson's face went stony. "That's impossible." Inside, he felt sick. He already knew that arguing was futile.  
"I'm not kidding. You're enchanted up the ying-yang."  
  
Johnson started to deny it again, but he gave up. Oh shit. Charmed. Was she really that good? Had he been wrong to trust her? The contract he was using with this imp was extremely specific – it couldn't lie. It could refuse to do things, but it couldn't lie.   
"Tell the Masters anyway. If not for me, for them - they'll want to know."  
"Okay. Hey, dude, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to break bad news or anythi- HEY!"  
Johnson dismissed it with a wave.  
  
---------  
  
"Why did you do it?"  
  
The place was empty, and only the crackling fireplace next to Chinese Guy's armchair made any noise to compete with the slow drip of the rain in the night outside. The light shone dully on the barrel of Johnson's revolver.  
Chinese guy didn't speak, and the silences between them said more than the words. Johnson kept his tone tight.   
  
"It wears off."  
Chinese Guy knew what was being said, and took a breath before replying.   
"I'm not an amateur at this. You wanted each other but you, good friend, have trust issues. Not to mention fear issues. When it wore off, you wouldn't suddenly stop feeling for her – you'd have gone too far to pull back."  
More silence.  
"You've caused trouble between me and my people."  
The silence lengthened. This was complicated, now. There was honour involved, and possibly a debt.   
"You expect me to apologise? You knew I didn't play by the rules when you agreed to work for me. I told you, I knew what might happen when I set the spell. I do not apologise."  
"It must have been a good one for me not to detect it."  
  
Again, this wasn't what was meant. Again, Chinese Guy answered the real question.  
"Yes, I did tailor it to you. You have many good detection skills for similar effects. This was a unique charm." More silence. "You've been here enough times. She only had to visit once."  
Johnson sat and thought, and Chinese Guy let him have the time. The fire reflected in the sunglasses, but the face behind them was unmoving.  
"I'm going to try and save this. If it doesn't work, I'll be back for you."  
"I understand."  
  
Johnson stood up abruptly and walked to the door. He stopped there and half-turned, not meeting the other man's gaze. He spoke hesitantly in a softer tone.  
  
"If it does work, I'll be back with a cake."  
  
Chinese Guy smiled. He'd known what he was doing. And he liked cake.  
  
Johnson tried to work out how he was going to break this to Jennifer. He kept thinking about it all the way home. Tuesday was fun. 


	8. The End.

BEEP  
  
"Mr. Johnson? This is Albert Roche at the office. We've had a change of management. The incident that caused the disagreement between the company and yourself has been reviewed, and we're interested in putting it behind us. I've been authorised to offer you your old position, if you're interested. Please get in touch."   
  
BEEP  
  
--  
  
"Who's Albert Roche?"  
Johnson didn't answer her for a moment. "A man I used to work with at the Institute."  
  
She didn't expect more, but he continued. "I left because they wanted me to kill a small girl. She was dangerous, but I… I took another option instead. Roche seems to think they'll forgive and forget."  
Jennifer studied him carefully. "Are you going to go back?"  
"No. I'm not interested in playing by their rules anymore. Besides, something important has come up, and I need to be able to handle it my way." He walked over to the flip chart that served as their summary board for current cases. It was full with a case she hadn't seen yet.  
  
"An Assassin is coming to town. He's good. The person he's trying to kill is very important to several people who I owe favours to, so they'd like me to stop him. This is big. All the main powers in town have a stake in this, and everyone's pulling all the strings they've got."   
  
"So who are the good guys?"  
He snorted. "No-one. There's no big win for good or evil going to come out of this – all that'll happen is that one faction gets more powerful. Or not." He turned back to the A2 chart. "I'm going to need to call in some people."  
  
--  
  
The doorbell rang. Johnson opened it as Jennifer looked in from the back room.  
  
"Hello Michael." The two men stared at each other for a moment. The man on the doorstep looked over at Jennifer.  
"Sorry it didn't work out, hon."  
"Me too."  
Michael nodded to Johnson, and left.   
  
"Well, that wasn't too bad…" she tried to sound cheery.  
"Yeah. He was upset, though."  
Jennifer spluttered, losing patience. "How could you tell?! I haven't seen two poker faces that good outside of a casino!"  
"Trust me, he's pissed. It nearly got violent. …Damn."  
  
Johnson walked back to the chart and wrote Michael in the column of people who would turn up to help.   
  
"I have to see about some of these others. It'll probably take the rest of the day. I'll see you tomorrow morning." He walked out quickly without another word.  
  
--  
  
Her mobile rang.  
"Hello, Jenny?"  
"Richard?! My God, it's been years!"  
"Heh. Yes, well, I'm in town and I wondered if you wanted to meet up. I've got photos of Karen's baby…"  
She would have met her old housemate anyway, but that sealed it. "Of course! How about the Italian place on King's Road? Half-seven? Great!" Putting the phone down excitedly, she realised that she'd partly accepted just to have something to fill the evening with. Thoughts of Johnson and Michael weren't what she needed right now.  
  
It didn't occur to her to wonder how he'd got the new number.  
  
--  
  
Johnson was late. He'd have to take a shortcut through Dog Alley. He hoped the usual inhabitants were otherwise engaged, because –  
  
"Hrrr. What are you doing here? You smell of Namer, and you should know better. Maybe I'll just kill you for trespassing, hmm?" The Bone Gnawer was in Glabro, but would have been big enough anyway in homid.   
  
Johnson sighed. "You're not from the local Sept, then. The Green Man Caern? The Crossed Blades Sept up near Hertfordshire?" The last guess made the growling form hesitate, and Johnson knew he had scored. He stood his ground looking up and the grubby Shifter.  
  
"My name is Mr. Johnson. Perhaps you've heard of me."  
  
The Garou narrowed it's eyes. "The Mr. Johnson who helped Dwight and McKenzie escape from Edwards?"  
"It was Dwight and Edwards escaping from McKenzie, as well you know. And yes, that was me."  
  
The Bone Gnawer seemed to think that was the right answer. "Sorry man, you go on your way." It left.  
  
Johnson brushed himself down, and continued his journey at a brisk walk.  
  
--  
  
"So he's not coming back?"  
"It would seem not, Sir. I'm surprised we even want him – can we trust him after he defected?"  
"Oh yes. My predecessor seemed to favour removing problems permanently instead of using more… tactful solutions, and Mr. Johnson did not appreciate the approach. I don't see that being a problem again. Besides, we need his skills badly."  
  
"He told me not to bother him again or he'd crash our entire computer system."  
"Yes, that's because he's friendly with the three top Cyberpaths on the planet."  
"Then he said if we didn't leave him alone he'd come down here and make us wish we had, and it didn't matter how many guards we hired."  
"~That's~ because, as my predecessor put it, Mr. Johnson 'Kicks ass harder than a Ninja Donkey.'"  
  
The younger of the two couldn't contain his surprise at the old man behind the desk using such words. "Er… so, are we giving up?"  
The other shook his head. "No, we just need to wait for a time when we can be of use to him. He takes the payment of debts very seriously. I'm sure he'll come back to us in time."  
  
--  
  
The wine was good, and the food delicious. Richard was his usual self – full of the latest stories from Campus and what her old friends were doing now. The meal had been wonderful, and he'd left a large tip. They collected their coats and made their way into the street. It was just beginning to rain.  
  
She felt very relaxed… too relaxed. Hang on. Her vision was going, but she was still sitting upright…  
  
She was looking through someone else's eyes. A man entered the room in front of her – it was Johnson. He was in danger – a lot of danger. He was… no! She could feel his future, almost see the thread of it overlaid on her vision as though in a dream, and it just… stopped! He was going to be-   
  
Jennifer came back to herself with a snap.   
"Wha… uh." She looked around wildly for a second. "Er, Richard, I'm afraid I can't stay." She didn't notice the change in his expression. "I have to go. I'm sorry this makes no sense, but something urgent has come up. I think a friend of mine might be in danger." She looked around for a cab.  
  
His voice tightened, but again she didn't catch it at the time. "Well, if it's dangerous I can't let you go on your own..."  
"I'm serious, Richard. I'll be fine. I'll try and explain it later – I just need you to not ask any questions now, and to let me get a taxi right away."  
  
"I know. And I would…" he raised a pistol. "…If I wasn't working for MI6."  
  
--  
  
Johnson reached the third floor landing of the Hotel. Chinese guy had said the Contact would be in the furthest room of the 310 suite. The doors were unlocked, and the rooms inside getting darker. In the last room, the only light was from a table lamp by the door. The contact was there, standing by the far window. It took a few seconds for Johnson to realise the mistake. He sighed.  
  
"Hello Chang."   
  
Chinese Guy walked forward into the circle of light. He was holding a pistol.  
  
"Hello David."  
  
--  
  
Her knuckles hurt. She was proud of herself, she guessed – pushing the gun aside and punching Richard in the face had been a reflex action. He'd barely finished talking. Jennifer tried to picture herself doing anything like that when she'd been married – even ~knowing~ how to do it. If she had, maybe she would have been beaten up three times a week for four years.  
  
The taxi carried on through the rain. She asked the driver to stop for a minute – Smith ran out to a payphone on the corner. She rang his machine and dialled the code.  
  
Click. "I've got a lead. Chinese guy gave me a contact who can locate our Assassin. Jen, he also told me that the opposition know you work with me now – keep your head down. I'll use line 3 tonight and we can go from there. I'll be at the Wichester Hotel until then, room 310." Click.  
  
She went back to the taxi at a dead run.  
  
--  
  
Someone once told Johnson "People can surprise you sometimes." He'd often thought those were wise words, but never more so than now. He doubted it had originally been meant in the sense of someone he trusted shooting him in the chest at close range, but y'know, the basics were there.  
  
"Everything has to end sometime, David. You are my friend, and I owe you. But I owe them more."  
  
Chinese Guy fired again, and walked slowly out of the room without looking back.  
  
--  
  
When Jennifer got there, Johnson was lying on the floor in a large pool of blood. She ran to him and crouched, ignoring the bright red that stained her clothes and hands.  
"Oh God! Hold on, please, keep breathing!"  
He was unconscious, and the breaths were shallow. She didn't know what to do. If she left to get an Ambulance, would he die?  
  
The man behind her had a gentle voice and asked her to remain calm. He crouched next to the prone body, and inspected it for a moment. Jennifer couldn't move. She wondered if she should try to stop the man, but it didn't seem important.  
  
Johnson's eyes flickered open. "Hello Lassic," he croaked. "Long time. They still got you doing the medic stuff?"  
  
"Yeah, man. I'm still the guy people want when it goes bad. You hold on, these magic hands'll have you okay again in no time." He didn't sound very convinced.  
  
--  
  
The bed was familiar. The small room was painted white, with no windows… where had he seen it? Ah. The Institute.  
  
Jennifer was on his left, looking at him.  
"Hey there. You gave us all a scare."  
He blinked, but didn't respond..   
"The Sorcerers healed you. Just. They also stopped the Assassination, apparently. They said I have some psychic something. Precon-, Pre-"  
"Precognition?" His voice was barely a whisper.  
"Yeah."  
  
Johnson did his best to chuckle without ripping his chest open. "Well."  
  
"They want you to take your old job back."  
"I know."  
"They say you need them to hide you from some people. Johnson… I met an old friend, Richard. He was MI6. He was watching me because he suspected you of being involved with the Assassination. Sounds like they might be right about 'hiding for a while' being a good idea."  
The figure in the bed didn't reply.  
"They also say you owe them now. I'd be inclined to agree."  
  
He nodded, once. "It's not important. Here, somewhere else. It doesn't matter." This much talking seemed to exhaust him, but he tried again a few seconds later. "What about you? What will you do?"  
  
Jennifer looked as though she'd been slapped. "Well… stay with you. I'm not leaving you now."  
"You gonna be happy staying here, even if we're not solving cases anymore?"  
"Well, it's not like it'll be boring. We're in an institute for Sorcerers, for a start." She sounded panicked. Johnson forced himself to say it.  
"So you're giving up on the whole suicide thing?"  
Her face went blank, and she folded her hands in her lap. "Yeah. I think I've found something worth staying around for. They want me here anyway, for the precog stuff. And a desk job for you, at least at first."  
  
"I'll be on my feet again soon." His voice suggested otherwise, but he continued. "Lassic is one of the best Healers they've got. I'm probably gonna be healthier than when I got up yesterday."  
  
Jennifer didn't tell him he'd been here for nearly a week. "Who was it who shot you?"  
  
"Chinese Guy. It's alright, he won't try again."  
  
Jennifer's tightly held composure finally gave way and she started crying. She took his hand in both of hers and sobbed. "Dammit, Johnson, isn't there anyone who isn't…"  
  
He squeezed her hand. "My name is David. I think you can call me that now. 


End file.
